


One Of Us

by Swiftwars21



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Attempted Murder, Big Sister Rapunzel, Canon Compliant, Dark Past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Heavy Angst, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Team Awesome (Disney: Tangled), Threats of Violence, Why Did I Write This?, enjoy?, like really heavy, oh yeah, writer's block :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiftwars21/pseuds/Swiftwars21
Summary: Out of all the things Varian had expected from tonight, a mob protesting in front of his house was definitely NOT one of them.But....maybe he deserved it?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	One Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> A project to clear my writer's block! 
> 
> I warn y'all, this ain't the happiest fic, so....  
> But nobody dies...so, that's good...
> 
> Anyways, enjoy, and there'll be more to come!

Out of all the things Varian had expected from tonight, a mob protesting in front of his house was _definitely not_ one of them. 

It had been nearly a week since Rapunzel returned, Varian reformed, and his father was freed from the amber; and to say that things so far had been hectic would be the biggest understatement of the century. From finding out what happened to Cassandra, to people returning to Old Corona, to finding out all about his father's history as a _warrior_...well, you couldn't blame Varian for feeling so overwhelmed. 

And none of those had been as bad---besides Cass, of course---as having to tell his father about everything he'd done while he'd been incapacitated in amber. He'd been disappointed at first, which Varian fully deserved. But then he'd been...angry; not at him, but at the king and princess for abandoning his son, which had led to all of the events two years ago. Honestly, Quirin had been angrier than he had been upset at his son---going so far as to say he was actually _proud_ of him for keeping himself upright for so long alone, which for Varian was like seeing a completely different person. 

A _changed_ person.

And the fifteen year-old had been absolutely relieved that he was, and was finally willing to open up about his past. Though, a knight for a distant kingdom harboring the celestial counterpart to the sun drop that had been overtaken by black rocks was not exactly what he'd been expecting. At all. 

And finding out he had an aunt and uncle (not biologically, but adoptive) was also a big surprise. But, hey, at this point, nothing was really a surprise anymore. He'd believe in fairies at this point, after all he had seen, done and heard. 

BUT that's not the point; the point IS, that he was almost actually ready to believe his life would get back to normal, and he could put his whole villain past behind him. But he should've known he'd never exactly been that lucky, when six days after saving Corona, he awoke to the sound of shouting outside.

At first he tried to ignore it, figuring it was just the villagers working late to renovate the town. 

But the longer the voices went on, and the brighter the warm light of some kind of fire grew, the more Varian was starting to doubt the idea. It grew to the point he couldn't fall asleep; no matter how hard he tried. He tossed and turned, until he finally couldn't stand it and got up. 

He slipped on his night shirt---which he'd thrown off sometime before bed due to the recent heat wave in Corona---and quietly opened his door, wincing as it creaked ever so slightly. As soon as it was open, a familiar voice downstairs almost stopped him completely in his tracks. His eyes widened as the muffled voice yelled things he couldn't understand, and he felt his heart start to thump wildly in his chest.

Yeah, there was no way the villagers were doing construction.

As soon as his mind fully kicked back in gear, he sped walked towards the staircase at the end of the hall, and cautiously stepping down each one slowly. As he got closer to the bottom, the voice became more clear, and his heart leapt into his throat as he could finally hear some of the words his father was shouting.

"I order you all to leave! Go home!"

And as he reached the last step, he turned to the front door to take in the scene.

His father, standing in the open doorway in his nightwear, looking extremely tired and angry with a raised fist pointed outside. Warm yellow and orange light illuminated his figure, and the shouting that was coming from the front of the manor became much clearer.

"D-Dad? What's going on?" he croaked out, swallowing the embarrassment of sounding much more tired than he felt. Quirin's head whipped around at the sudden voice, and his eyes widened upon seeing where it came from, before fading into a calm kind of stern expression. "Varian, go back to bed. I've got this handled." he said, though Varian was stubborn. 

"I can't sleep. What's going on?" he repeated, much more awake.

His father pinched the bridge of his nose, gazing outside before looking back at his son. "Nothing you should be concerned about, son. Go back to bed." 

But Varian wasn't going to give up so easily; sure, maybe the old, younger and much more naive him would've. Yes, the fourteen-year-old-before-the-amber-incident-Varian would've listened the first time his father had commanded him. But he wasn't that kid anymore. He was sixteen, with a lot of experience that he shouldn't even have. He was much more mature and smart than before. And a lot more stubborn.

Instead of replying, Varian bolted for the door. Quirin tried to stop him and block his way, but Varian was nimble and fast on his feet. He managed to dodge the much larger man, and replace his spot at the front door. He instantly regretted it.

Many, many people---almost the _whole village_ \---were standing in a large herd just in front of the house's front stairs, carrying torches and pitchforks, and shouting things that Varian could now finally understand. And oh, he really wished he didn't. 

_"Traitor!"_

_"He deserves justice!"_

_"You shouldn't be proud of such a menace!"_

_"Disgrace!"_

_"Evil as plain as that damned hair stripe in his hair!"_

_"An outrage that the princess would let him run free again!"_

_"Shame on her, shame on him!"_

_"Hand him over, Quirin!"_

Varian could barely breath, legs quaking beneath him. As soon as the villagers saw him, it was like their already-loud shouts and cries amped up their power by a hundred, to the point some were even screaming. This made Varian flinch back, and nearly fell backward had it not been for his father catching him. 

As Quirin helped him stand straight again, Varian began to tremble more, and he felt tears come to his eyes. His dad pulled him behind him to keep him away from the villagers in case any dared to come closer, though Varian doubted they would. Quirin was their leader, they weren't stupid enough to try and attack him. No, they just wanted him to hand his own son over willingly, that way they at least had consent to do whatever they thought was justice to him. Varian mentally begged for his father not to do that. He really didn't want them to hurt him.

Instinctively, Varian grabbed onto the large arm Quirin held in front of him, as if it were the one thing keeping him out of harm's reach. He shook against it, and he could feel his father's concerned gaze on him as tears finally squeezed their way out of his eyes, and he hid his face in the man's sleeve as they spilled. The expression turned determined, and Quirin looked back at the crowd with bitter anger in his eyes. 

As Varian looked back up, he saw a man in a red flannel shirt and denim jeans step out of the crowd, carrying a sharp looking pitchfork in one hand, and a torch in the other. Varian recognized him as the village blacksmith. 

"Hand him over, Quirin! He's dangerous!" the man called.

Quirin clenched his teeth. "He's my son!" he retorted angrily, making Varian tighten his grip around his arm. "I won't let any one of you lay a finger on him!"

"You're making a mistake, my friend. You have no idea how many horrible acts he-"

"And he's making up for them! The princess is giving him a second chance, why can't you?"

Murmurs erupted from the crowd at this, and Varian swallowed hard as he looked back up at Quirin's face.

"D-Dad...I don't...I-I..."

Quirin frowned, closing the door slightly so the crowd couldn't see them as he crouched down to his level and pulled him into a tight, safe embrace. "Shhh, it's okay, son. I won't let them take you." he promised. Varian hooked his arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. All the people that were out there now, protesting and demanding for him to pay for his mistakes; some of them had been friends. Some of them had babysat him when he was little, and helped teach him how to work on the farm. Sure, most of the others despised him for his failed experiments and invention (which he couldn't blame them for), but at least some of them were more kind and caring and understanding. 

But after the shit-stunt he pulled, he managed to lose those people. He managed to lose the only remaining allies he'd had, all because he couldn't keep his temper straight. They weren't even there when he did it! They abandoned him, and yet they think he was the one who carried all the blame! They were just as much to blame as he was for hs father's encasement and his abandonment---maybe even more so than Rapunzel.

But...they didn't commit treason. They didn't steal one of the kingdom's most prized possessions, and crumble it up to nothing. They didn't trick the princess to commit the act with them, or drug the whole kingdom for that single thing. They didn't build an army of automatons, or kidnap the queen, or threaten her life. They didn't threaten the princess's best friend's life, or almost kill her. They didn't take over the kingdom, or erase the queen and king's memories. They weren't the reason the whole city almost blew up. They weren't a nuisance like he was, because _he_ had done those things. He hurt them way before they did him. All because he loved something nobody else understood.

So maybe he did deserve for them to take him away. Maybe he did deserve for them to beat him to a pulp and throw him in the lake. Maybe he really _did_ deserve to be buried without a tomb stone, or be burned at the stake, or hung or decapitated. He did. He deserved **all** of it.

Before he could voice any of this, he felt his father pull away and move both hands to his shoulders, holding him firmly so they were face-to-face. 

Varian's sad, scared, tear-filled blue eyes stared into his dad's calm, collected, safe brown ones. His kind and _proud_ ones. He didn't deserve it; he didn't deserve his father's pride, or his kindness. He didn't deserve his safe arms and easy forgiveness. Why had he forgiven him so fast? After all he'd done, he was quick to forgive and forget. He took that as an opportunity to try and strengthen their relationship, which had been cracked ever since mom's death. He barely thought twice. 

Varian didn't earn that. He'd hurt his father one too many times, and he didn't want his father to get hurt _again_ trying to protect him. His father didn't deserve such a disappointment. He might as well just give himself up. If he did, at least the one person he loved would be safe. That was the only option. 

If it was, then why, when his father told him everything would be okay, did he believe him? Why, when ordered to hide down in his lab, did he not hesitate to run for the basement door, instead of running out into the mob? Why did he lock the metal door and run behind the same curtain that once hid the queen? Why did he close it the conceal himself and rest his back against the back wall? 

The only thing that didn't need a "why," was when he broke down once more, and sunk down to the floor in a ball against the wall. And in that ball, he cried and begged, wanting all of this to be over.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to clear my writer's block, and because for a while I've felt like Varian's angry mob dream in 'Be Very Afraid' had to come from some kind of real situation, so....yeah, here this is...


End file.
